


Sundays

by Toki_Blade



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Oneshot, superbowl, watch me attempt romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 18:25:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toki_Blade/pseuds/Toki_Blade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Super Bowl.</p>
<p>The time of year that all Americans get together and comune over sweaty men in tights. A fine line splitting the population in two. Those for team A, and those for team B.</p>
<p>And then there’s that small portion of people who just don't give a shit.</p>
<p>Dave Strider is one of those people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sundays

**Author's Note:**

> So like I started this last super bowl. Yeah. Hint the theme. 
> 
> This took so long to finish I like don't even know if it's good anymore. My endings always seem rather abrupt to me, so I apologize for that.
> 
> Whateves. Enjoy, comment, review, check out my other stuff if you want.
> 
> No this isn't shameless plugging, what?
> 
> (also if I slipped into second person please tell me because I do that sometimes.)

The Super Bowl.

The time of year that all Americans get together and comune over sweaty men in tights. A fine line splitting the population in two. Those for team A, and those for team B.

And then there’s that small portion of people who just don't give a shit.

Dave Strider is one of those people.

Every year it's always the same. Two teams play a game he doesn't understand, for the fate of... something he doesn't care about.

If Dave had it his way, he would be at home with his Bro. Either strifing or mixing up some sick beats.

John, however, has other plans.

John had taken it upon himself to make getting his friends together to watch the Super Bowl a tradition. Over the years people had come and gone, so it wasn't always just the four of them. But this year, it seems most of their other friends had plans, so it was just the original crew tonight. John, Jade, Rose, and Dave.

John and Jade were both pretty psyched about the game, both dressed in overly large jerseys with paint on their faces, Rose had brought the expected book, and Dave was busy trying to figure out his best escape plan.

It wasn’t as if Dave _hated_  the sport (he just saw no purpose for it other than to waste a perfectly good Sunday) he’d dealt with John’s antics over the years, sat through this ‘one Sunday, Dave! Just _one_ ’ multiple times.

This time though... it seemed different.

He was noticing things. Things that just made everything feel off.

He noticed how warm John was when he greeted him with a hug.

He noticed how John smushed himself between Jade and his own body, and how he was trying to meld himself with the arm of the couch because he couldn’t _stop_  noticing how warm John was, and how he left burning trails wherever he touched.

He noticed, not for the first time, but it seemed like the first time that it mattered, just how _blue_  John’s eyes really were.

He noticed the un-Strider-like flutters that filled his stomach whenever John so much as glanced his way (which he would _deny_  were ever there because they _weren't_ ).

He noticed how John clutched at his arm whenever his team scored a point, or lost one.

Noticed how he didn’t let go, even during the commercials.

He also noticed the looks that Rose was giving him, and how she’d forgone her book in exchange to stare him down over the two brunettes.

He’d make a snide comment, something about how he knew his face was pretty, and how that shit wasn’t free, and that she’d have to pay if she wanted to keep looking. He didn’t though. Couldn’t.

Couldn’t risk that sort of attention from John _or_  Harley- because he _knew_  his face was tinted with pink. Could feel his head throbbing and his mouth drying and his throat closing and- oh god.

John had somehow shifted himself slightly behind Dave. Resting his chin on Dave’s shoulder, eyes wide and intent on the screen, arm bent awkwardly behind Dave’s head, hand absently running through his blonde hair, other hand clutching at his arm, searching for-

Just as John’s hand began to encase Dave’s own, he shot up like a rocket.

John fell slightly, leaning on his arm for support, giving Dave a wide eyed look. “Dave, wha-”

“Sorry my little chick-a-dees, my fans beckon. I must take my leave.” He refuses to look at them as he walks out the living room. He knows what they look like. Rose is probably smug and Jade either didn’t even look up, or is mirroring John’s own expression.

He makes it to the door and is pulling on his shoes when John catches up.

“Dave! What the hell, man!”

Dave ignores him and finishes lacing up his shoes.

“Sorry, dude, Bro texted, wants me back.” He places his hand on the doorknob and John places his hand over it, making him freeze and his insides churn.

“No. He didn’t Dave. Your phone is still on the kitchen table, along with everybody elses.”

Damn.

John made a rule a few years back, when Dave wouldn’t stop texting Terezi, that phones were _banned_  during the Super Bowl. Because again, ‘it’s just _one_  day, Dave!’

“It’s a Strider thing.” Dave croaked out, because his hand was _burning_  and tingling and doing this weird thing where is was numb and the most sensitive part of his body at the same time. “We don’t need things like phones to communicate.”

John’s hand stiffens and his voice is hard when he finally speaks, “That’s bull, Dave. And we both know it.”

Dave yanks his hand away and holds it protectively against his chest. “Fuck, John! I just _have to go_ , okay!?”

He’s panicking, his eyes are wide and he thanks every deity he knows for the shades on his face.

John’s own face has contorted into one of ponder and contemplation. He reaches forward and snaches Dave’s hand back, pulling him forward.

“John! What the fu-”

And he’s cut off with John’s lips sealing with his own.

The first thought that crosses his mind is- oh, god, yes. _This_  is how it should be. Why the hell haven’t we done this before? Then next few aren’t quite as linear. All mashing up with each other with yes-fuck-no-we’rebroswecan’t-whythehellishe-what’rewe- with his mind racing his body seemed to shut down.

John pulls back after a moment, his face tight. “Dave?” He asks tentatively. Dave can only stare at him, and he’s pretty sure his mouth is agape. John’s face falls, and gives Dave a small, sad - _sad, why is he sad?_ \- smile. “Guess not. Sorry.” He sighs and releases Dave’s hand. He turns without another word and walks back to the living room.

Dave stands there for a moment, before he falls against the door and slides down, resting his forehead against his knees.

He just fucked up. And he didn’t even know what he did wrong.

Unlike what Dave had stated earlier, he didn’t leave. Too shell shocked to even move. Jade had tripped over him on her way to get another soda, but he refused to acknowledge her; even when she poked him and nudged his leg with her foot.

Rose comes by sometime later and Dave has a feeling that her sole purpose was to come and find him.

“David.” She says, but he doesn’t look up, only pulls a leg into himself. She sigh. Flattening down her skirt she bends down next to him to peer at his face. He looks away. She sighs again before sitting down fully and leaning against him; he tenses.

“Dave,” She tries, but it only makes him grip his leg tighter. “David, come now. Don’t be a child. Wouldn’t you like to talk about it?” He doesn’t answer, only shifts slightly so that he can glare at her out of the corner of his sunglasses. She chews on the inside of her cheek slightly, “John seemed rather torn up about the whole ordeal but won’t tell me what happened, perhaps you will enlighten me?”

Dave sputters, “John was- _John_  was torn up about it!? But he’s the one who- who” he can’t bring himself to say it.

He’s acting like a stupid teenage girl and he is fully aware of it. Maybe, though, if he actually _knew how to respond_  he could- he didn’t know. _Something_ , though, something that wasn’t _this_.

But Rose has that spark in her eyes and she _knows_  something now and until she gets the full story- until she can take him apart piece by piece- she won’t leave it alone.

“What did John do, Dave?” Her voice is calm, early so, and as Dave glances over at her, her eyes tell him that she already knows.

He scoffs and curls in on himself more. (Stop it _stop it_  get ahold of yourself, you’re a Strider- a _Strider_. Strider’s don’t act like this.) “You know,” he says, voice muffled by his knee, “you _know_  so why should I tell you?”

And there’s that smile.

The knowing one, the creepy one. The one that says you are a mere bug under a lense, but at the same time you are her friend (her family) and she cares and _that’s_  why.

“I want to hear you say it, Dave.” The speculation and care in her voice makes him cringe.

When he does speak, moments later, his voice is soft, scared, quick. It’s a child’s voice and he hasn’t been like this since he was so very young. Why now- _why now_?

“He kissed me.”

Rose hums and Dave’s other leg comes up so that he can grab it and pull them both tight against his chest, smashing his face into his knees and his glasses into his face.

He’s pathetic.

Rose’s hand finds it’s way to his hair and rubs his head softly- gently. Probably like a mother’s hand would.

“Was it not okay?” She asks, voice melodic, calm.  

Was it?

He honestly didn’t know.

Sure it’d freaked him out a bit (he didn’t even know John was _gay_  [not that he really cared either way]) but had he been completely adverse to it?

No.

No, he hadn’t. It wasn’t actually that bad. It was almost enjoyable before his mind ran away on him.

But did he think about John like that? Did _John_  actually think about _him_  like that? Or was it just a one time thing? A test?

What if this was all some sort of sick, stupid test?

And he’d failed.

He’d failed so completely.

No- no. The whole world wasn’t like bro. Somethings had face value and he was learning that.

But was this one of those?

Would John do that sort of thing to him?

No, he wouldn’t. John was his friend, his _best_  friend. Sure they joked around sometimes and pulled a few pranks on eachother but this would be going too far.

So it must be then.

John liked him. But maybe more than a friend normally would.

And the weird thing was, the more Dave thought about it, the less weird it got.

They’d basically grown up together, he trusted John with just about everything (more than other people at least) and he felt John did the same. They did everything together, cared about each other without prejudice.

Would being more really change that much?

_Yes_ , the scarred side of his brain screamed at him; the child side. The one afraid of change- of being hurt. _It would change so much. Whatifwhatifwhatif._

What if.

What if he got hurt?

What if John got hurt?

What if it didn’t work?

But what if it did?

What if it _did_  work. What if they were compatible? And why not, he knew nearly _everything_  about John. He knew his ticks and his quirks, his habits his obsessions.

Would it really be that terrible?

What would it even change besides being closer?

He didn’t know.

Rose squeezed his arm.

“I’m going to go watch the game now.” She means read. “Join us when you feel up to it.”

He doesn’t say anything.

He feels her shift and then she’s gone.

What now?

Should he leave?

Should he stay?

Rose obviously expected him to stay but screw Rose.

Except he couldn’t go.

His bro might be around and he would be back early and that might be weird or something.

But he couldn’t _stay_. He couldn’t _go back in there_.

What would John say?

What would John _do_?

Would it be awkward now?

Would he act as though nothing were wrong?

Would that be even worse than if things were weird between the two of them?

Dave groaned and let his head fall back against the door.

This sucked.

He’d screwed up and now he was paying the price.

Except, at the time, he didn’t know he was messing everything up. He was too busy freaking out to notice.

He sighed and made his way to his feet.

It was now or never- he just wished it didn’t have to be in front of Rose and Jade.

He squared his shoulders, settled his glasses back on his nose and moved to the living room.

It was like he had never left.

Harley was standing on the cushions yelling at the screen enthusiastically, John was booing as he ate handfuls of popcorn.

Rose stat on the side, reading.

She glanced up when he came in, smiled, then went back to reading.

Jerk.

Jade didn’t look at him as he came in and sat on the couch, but John glanced at him, gave him a smile, then went back to watching.

He felt like an asshole.

He sat down.

Stiff as a board and just as rigid.

John didn’t touch him.

He wasn’t making an obvious show of it or anything- he just wasn’t touching him.

There was at least an inch between their bodies at all times.

Close, just not too close.

It was a respectable distance.

It made Dave’s stomach clench.

He berated himself.

He was a _Strider_  for crying out loud. He shouldn’t be nervous, he shouldn’t feel bad because he hadn't even really done anything _wrong_.

Except he had.

He’d hurt his best friend which was like top of the list on things never to do. Right between challenging Jade to a contest and making Karkat cry (which was nigh impossible anyways).

He leaned back and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Sorry.”

John’s head snaps over to look at him, Jade still doesn’t tear her eyes from the screen, and Rose politely doesn’t look up from her book.

John blinks owlishly at him.

“It’s just- you startled me bro. You can’t just- got to take a lady on a date before to try to molest her, you know? Gotta buy her dinner first otherwise- she’ll freak out, or uh.” Harley still hasn’t looked at you and you realise that your voice is barely above a murmur. “Not to say that I didn’t, uh, I didn’t _not_  like it. So there’s that, but- shit bro. You kind of really freaked me out, and, fuck, sorry.”

His hands are shaking kind of like they do when he gets hungry. His stomach feels like cement and butterflies at the same time and his head is pounding with blood.

“Sorry.”

John’s eyebrows are coming together and he’s smiling and-

fuck.

“No, Dave. It’s not your fault, really! You shouldn’t be the one apologising, I mean, I really just shouldn’t have-”

“Fuck, John!” You’re voice is rising. “You’re not the one who- I shouldn’t have freaked out! So why the fuck are you-”

“ _Really_  Dave, it’s my fault! I shouldn’t have done that! You’re just trying to not hurt my feelings and-”

“John, no. Just stop it. That’s not what I’m trying to do! Would you just-”

“I promise if we just _drop it_  I won’t ever bring it up again and I’m _sorry_  because-”

“I don’t mind that you kissed me!”

John’s voice dies down. Dave doesn’t think he’s ever heard him shout. He doesn’t remember the last time he even rose his voice because losing your cool is just not acceptable.

Jade is staring at him, wide eyed with her mouth hanging open slightly.

Rose has even glanced up from her book with raised eyebrows.

John is working his mouth like a fish out of water. “I- you- well that’s.” He bites his lip and fades out. “You didn’t?”

“Well, I mean.” What _did_  he mean? “It wasn’t _bad_  I guess. I just- I wasn’t expecting it.”

John’s face is painfully void of any telltale emotions.

He stands up abruptly and Dave curses himself because dammit he screwed up again.

But then John’s grabbing his hand and pulling him up and away from the couch and away from the living room and towards the kitchen.

He vaguely hears Rose asking Jade about the scores as if trying to distract her.

They reach the kitchen and John just kind of stares at him for a moment before he realizes that they’re still holding hands and drops it like it’s hot.

“Sorry.

“S’fine.”

They stand there awkwardly.

John is biting at his lip and cheek and fiddling with his jersey. “You,” he pauses, “you didn’t mind it?”

Dave shrugged and shoves his hands in his pockets. “S’what I said.”

John shifts and runs a hand through his hair.

Dave’s just about thinking that they will stand there awkwardly for the rest of eternity when John blerts “I think I sort of kinda love you.” a beat and he adds, “Unironically.”

When Dave doesn’t say anything right away John gnaws on his lip more and clenches and unclenches his hands.

“Like I mean, I know I _love_  you because I mean you’re my best bro. My best friend I mean. And like we do everything together and I’d do pretty much anything for you and um, well now I think I’m _in_  love with you. Which is like totally different. And I’ve thought about it long and hard so I’m pretty sure it’s the romantic kind. And I thought maybe, because of earlier that you might of, iono, felt the same? But then like you froze up after I kissed you and kind of freaked out and it was like _fuck_  he doesn’t actually feel the same but then you were all apologising and then- well. Do you? Like me, I mean. Back. In a romantic sense sort of way? Maybe?”

Dave kind of stands there for a moment (because _wow_  that is a lot to take in) before he shrugs. “Well, I mean, I don’t _not_  like you. Like that. Romantically.”

John groans. “Dave! Would you stop using double negatives! I’m already confused and you’re kind of making it worse!”

“Well like,” Dave purses his lips. “I haven’t actually thought about it that extensively. Today was kind of an eye opener for me, because, I definitely thought about it today. And I figured, I’m not adverse to the idea. Completely. Or like, at all really. And I think I might-? You know. So, maybe?”

Fuck that was weak.

But John’s smiling at him all tentative and hopeful. “Really?”

Dave shrugs again. “Well I mean, yeah bro.”

And then John is full out beaming again.

“Could we- I mean if you want to- do you think we could try it?”

It.

Dave shuffles his feet. “I guess we could try, like, never know till you try right?”

“So we could... go on a date? Maybe?” His voice squeaks and it’s kind of adorable.

“Shit yeah bro. We’ll go on the most ironic date. And by ironic, I mean, um, normal. We could go to a movie or something.”

John appears to be attempting to hide his excitement. And failing.

“Like- I’m not saying I want to marry you or anything- just like, take me now Egbert, I’m your’s- no just- we’re trying this right? Just trying?”

John nodes and tries to look serious. He still fails.

“Egbert, it- we might not work out. Like, we might crash and burn. It’ll be on the five o’clock news. ‘Local teenage boys attempt relationship, both explode’ it could be tragic, John. It could go down in history as the worst relationship to ever appear on the face of the earth.”

He nods again, and Dave can’t help feel that he’s _just not getting it_.

“John.” He tries to keep up the half-joking tone but he goes kind of soft and berates himself for it,  “What if this fails so bad it’s non-salvageable. What if this ship sinks? What if- we’re not friends anymore?”

And maybe _finally_  he gets it. Maybe it’s finally sunk in. That maybe this isn’t such a hot idea.

He looks a little pitying.

“I still wanna try.”

“John- fuck. You don’t-”

“It’d be better than this!” Dave’s mouth snaps shut. John’s lower lip wobbles. “Than like- pining after you like some teenage girl and you never knowing and it just gets worse and worse and somedays I feel like I’m gonna explode! It’d be better than this. I- at least I’d have a reason for hating myself as much as I do.”

And- fuck it. He’s crying.

“I just want to try Dave. Just _give me a chance_! What if we _do_  work? What if we’re compatible and we just don’t know it yet. You keep looking at the bad things, but I _really_  want this too be good.”

John rubs at his face with the back of his arm, the paint on his face smears a little.

“Yeah.”

John’s head snaps up. “Wha-?”

“Yeah, I- sorry. Kinda being a Debbie Downer, huh? I- I’ll try. Just- I’m kinda-” scared “worried dude. Just, I don’t know.”

John nods. “Yeah, no. I get it. _Really_  I do. I’ve thought about it for longer than you. I’ve like, had more time to mull it over or whatever. I just- I really wanna try.”

Dave takes a deep breath.

And then another.

“Yeah.” he says, “Yeah. Okay.”

And suddenly John’s arms are around his neck.

“Woah- dude- John- air is sort of a thing I need.”

He backs off.

“Sorry.”

He’s smiling.

He takes Dave’s hand and Dave flinches. He pretends not to notice. “Can we go back and watch the game now?”

Dave still can’t look away from their conjoined hands. He nods.

John slowly pulls him back to the living room where Harley’s head snaps up and over and her eyes go straight to their connected hands.

She whoops.

“I _knew_  it! Yes!” She turns to Lalonde, “Five bucks, cough it up blondie!”

Rose sighs but never the less reaches for her bag and hands over the allotted money.

Jade stuffs it in her shirt.

“What.”

The two girls turn to Dave.

“You- you _knew_?” And he’s kind of really fucking angry. “You knew this _whole time_?”

Jade shrugs nonchalantly, “Well sure. It’s not like he was really discreet about it or anything.”

He steals a glance at John whose face is beet red. “Well I mean, I wasn’t. I actually thought I was being obvious about the whole thing and you just hadn't said anything yet.”

“Yes David.” Rose says, “Honestly, it’s not our faults that you’re unobservent as all get out.”

Dave bites his tongue. “Whatever. Can we just- watch the stupid game or whatever?”

Jade makes a surprised sound before turning back to the television with wide eyes.

John squeezes his hand then pulls him over to the couch. They sit. Close again, holding hands, John half hugging him.

It’s weird.

But not really bad.

After a while Dave allows himself to relax.

It was weird but not bad. Different, certainly, but not unacceptable.

As Dave slowly let himself relax against John, he figured this was something he could deal with.

Or at the very least, this was something he could try.

 


End file.
